


Today isn't my day to find you ( I'll be coming for your love, OK? )

by Moonygirl



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Kazer, Knitting, M/M, Oblivious, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:34:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonygirl/pseuds/Moonygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaner and Tazer have been dating forever, only Kaner doesn’t know it. Tazer knits to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today isn't my day to find you ( I'll be coming for your love, OK? )

**Author's Note:**

> I blame millepertuis for dragging me down into this fandom until I couldn't resist anymore. Thanks to her and wingedrascal for cheering me on while I wrote this ! And thank you to brianaphora for her brilliant editing :)  
> Title is from "Take on me", by A-ha.

It all started when Tazer got bored. He'd been out with a concussion for a few days and he'd been whining on the phone at his mom that he was sooo bored. Watching dumb TV or playing xbox gave him horrible headaches and getting up made him dizzy. He was miserable. Kaner came over as often as he could, but his inability to stay quiet for more than two seconds soon pushed Tazer to throw him out of his apartment.

 

Then a Monday morning at 10am, he got a package delivery from UPS. The brown box was big, bigger than the care packages he was used to get from his family, filled with poutine, maple syrup and other stuff they thought he might miss (shut up, Canadian maple syrup is the best, okay? And it's totally in his diet. More or less.). The label said it was from Canada, but he didn't recognize the name. He got a knife from a kitchen drawer and started to cut the numerous layers of brown tape. When he was finished unpacking the box, there was tape and bubble wrap everywhere on his carpet. He finally got to the content of the box. It was about a dozen balls of yarn, some pointy sticks and a knitting book, tucked under the bill. He took it with bewilderment and started to read. The sending address was definitely his, but the billing address was his parents'. The hell ?

 

He grabbed his phone and speed dialed his mom's number.

 

« Bonjour Maman. Hey, I got a package in the mail today. Yarn ? Sticks ? What's up with that ? »

 

« Well, you said you were bored, didn't you sweetie ? »

 

« Yeah, I did … But _knitting ?_ Seriously ? »

 

« You learned when you were a kid. You stayed up all night until you figured out how to properly cast on the stitches. I never saw you so focused on something that wasn't hockey. I figured you might want to take it up again until you can play … Oui ? »

 

« But … That was ages ago. I must have forgotten how to knit, by now. »

 

« That's what the book is for ! And the yarn is your favorite shade of blue. You can make a scarf. »

 

He sighed. “Fine. Thanks, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me.” He hung up after his mom said she'd talk to him later.

 

He frowned at the box. What now ?

 

*

 

Turns out knitting is not so complicated. His mom had chosen a book with large, colored pictures, and when he didn't understand something he could always resort to looking it up on the internet. After about an hour of fumbling with the blue string, he'd managed to cast on about thirty stitches on one of the needles and he'd started knitting. Stick the tip of the right needle in the loop, wrap the yarn around it, slide the needle out of the loop. And repeat. At the end of the evening, he'd proudly sent a picture of his first foot of knitting to his mom.

 

*

 

A few days after that, Tazer went to an optional morning practice. The disapproving glares of coach Q hadn't stopped him from sitting in the stands above the bench and from yelling orders at his teammates (strictly when he deemed it necessary. Which was about every two minutes.) Kaner wasn't there, probably still sleeping, the fucker. He pulled out his scarf from his bag and started to knit mindlessly, his eyes still on the drills.

 

“Oh my god look at that !” squeed Sharpie with unnatural glee. “Captain Serious is knitting !”

 

Tazer straightened up at once and shot Sharpie at look. “So what ?”

 

“So everything ! How ? Why ? Since when ? WHY ?”

 

“I'm fucking bored, that's why. Now stop yelling like that. You're annoying.”

 

His other teammates had gathered around the bench, grinning like madmen. He could tell they were all dying to chirp him, when one of the rookies, Shaw, yelled suddenly “DIBS ON A HAT !”

 

“Ah, dammit !” others groaned. “I wanted one too.”

 

“I want socks !” said Seabs, making puppy eyes at him.

 

“Don't listen to him, make me some first !” interrupted Duncs. “In red, white and black.”

 

Tazer looked at this group of idiots with horror. “I'm not making anyone anything. I haven't even finished my first scarf.”

 

“You will make us stuff … Or we'll tell Kaner.” threatened Sharpie with a devilish grin.

 

“What makes you think he doesn't already know ? He's over at my place all the time !”

 

“Oh, he'd have sent me about a million texts if he'd found out. For sure.”

 

“Fuck you all.” sighed Tazer.

 

“Now, for my hat ...”

 

*

 

Kaner turned in his bed, attempting to find a position that would somewhat muffle the moron's noise.  There was only about half an hour left in the night, and he wanted to go back to sleep.  That was perhaps the worst part about rooming with Tazer: he talked in his sleep. A lot. He used to find that funny, taking the opportunity to learn embarrassing stuff about him. But alas, Captain Serious was even serious in his sleep. Not even a little  dirty dream here of there. Kaner sighed. What was he rambling on about tonight ?

 

“soft … two balls … hmmmm … Dumbledore.”

 

WHAT. Kaner's mind reeled with anguish at the possibilities. That was the weirder thing Tazer had ever said in his sleep. He needed brain bleach. Badly. He picked up an empty bottle on the ground and hurled it at the moron's head.

 

“OUCH ! The fuck, Kaner ?!”

 

“Shut up !” he yelled back, his eyes wide. “I don't even want to think about what you were dreaming about. You have a dirty, twisted mind.”

 

“Uh ?” said Tazer, stupidly.

 

“DUMBLEDORE !” said Kaner, slamming the door as he went down for breakfast, still in his pajamas. Whatever.

 

Duncs and Seabs found him an hour later, still staring blankly at his toast, which was slowly dripping jam onto the table.

 

“What's up, Peekaboo ?”

 

“You don't look so good.”

 

Kaner lifted his gaze with difficulty, and stared at them.

 

“I've heard things. Horrible things. Things I cannot unhear. ”

 

They shared a look and sat at the table,  on each side of Kaner. 

 

“What things ? You know we won't tell anyone. You can tell us.” said Duncs, as Seabs poured himself a glass of orange juice nonchalantly. 

 

“Tazer...” he shaked his head. “Tazer was dreaming about Dumbledore's balls.”

 

Seabs immediately choked on his drink and made desperate, gurgling sounds. “There, there, Biscuit.” said Duncs, thumping on his back, a hint of a smile on his face. “Are you sure ? Did he talk in his sleep again ?”

 

“Dude, yes, I'm fucking sure. He was mumbling about soft balls and then he started saying Dumbledore's name. What other explanations can there be ?!”

 

“Crystal balls !” said Sharpie gingerly, setting his mug of coffee on the table, and sitting in front of Kaner. “Obviously. We're talking about Harry Potter, right ?”

 

“Dude. You don't want to know.” said Seabs weakly, still trying to clean up the mess he'd made.

 

“No, I heard what you were saying. There's another explanation, of course. Everyone knows Dumbledore's a knitter. That might have been what the Captain was dreaming about.”

 

“So, Tazer is either a Canadian looser having boring dreams about yarn or a pervert with a Harry Potter fetish. Neither of which sounds like someone I want to be fucking rooming with. Ow !”

 

“Serves you right, dumbass.” groaned Tazer, thumping Sharpie on the back of the head with his rolled newspaper too, for good measure. “What the fuck was that ?” he added, sitting besides them. “Someone get me coffee. That jerkface woke me up with a bottle in the head. Ouch.”

 

“Right oh”, said Shaw. “I'm getting it for the others anyway. They'll be down soon.”

 

Kaner eyed Shaw suspiciously. “You're being awfully nice to him, for one of my evil minion.  And … Is that a  _hat_ ? We're inside, dude. ”  He grabbed the hat as Shaw passed by, examining it. “This is so lame, Shawsy. Why do you have your number sewed on the inside of it ?”

 

Shaw set down a platter with a dozen mugs of coffee on the table and snatched his hat back. The tips of his ears were red. “My, uh, my Mum made it for me. Shut up.”

 

Kaner sat back, sipping his coffee and shooting every grinning or giggling teammate a look.

They were a bunch of weirdos.

 

*

 

“You have a problem, dude.”

 

“Shut your face. I do not.”

 

“Right. You have two problems. You're in love with your best friend.”

 

“Let's go back to my first problem.”

 

“You have fucking yarn everywhere.”

 

“Yup.”

 

Sharpie looked around him and sighed. Tazer's living room was slowly disappearing under growing piles of yarn baskets.

 

“Do you need that much yarn ?” he asked, scratching his chin.

 

“Nope, but it's soft. Whatever. I'll use it eventually. Or not. It all fits in the cupboard, anyway.” said Tazer, all the while working on the last rows of Sharpie's mittens. “And you started it.”

 

“True. But honestly, we didn't know you'd turn out to be such a knitting addict.”

 

Tazer shrugged and snipped the yarn, leaving a few inches for the tail. “Pass me the tapestry needle. I think you're sitting on it.”

 

Sharpie shook his head and did as asked. “Abby says hello, by the way. She said to give you this.” He took  a book out of his bag and passed it to him. “Said you'd know what it was about.” 

 

“”Knitting without tears” ?! Dude. Seriously. Tell her thank you from me.”

 

“What's it about ?”

 

“It's only a super rare book by the knitting goddess Elizabeth Zimmerman. First edition !” squeed Tazer.

 

Sharpie backed away slowly from the knitting freak. No sudden movements … “What do you plan on doing about your second problem ?”

 

Tazer sighed. “Nothing. What do you want me to do. I've been in love with this asshole since forever. Trust me, there's nothing to do.”

 

“The whole team has known since day one you two were made for each other, you're in love head over heels with him and that moron can't even see it. That's just sad, man.”

 

“I knit to forget.”

*

 

The first couple of times Tazer decides to “explore the city” instead of going out with the team after a game on the road, Kaner just shrugs it off. Everyone needs time alone to unwind, right ? And who cares if Tazer sometimes comes back to the hotel room smelling of sheep. That's cool, Kaner's not the kind of guy to ask questions. But the mysterious bags piling up in Tazer's suitcase are driving him crazy. The guy won't tell what's inside them and obnoxiously locks it before going out of the room. Like Kaner would ever snoop. He just wishes he'd listened when Erica had explained to him how to pick locks, that's all. That's, like, legitimate concern for him teammate well being, that's all.

 

*

 

 

Tazer can't help but look around him as he's entering the coffee shop where the crafting circle usually meets. You can't be too careful these days, a fan might recognize him. Or worse, Kaner might have followed him, the creeper.

The table farthest away from the door is, as usual, covered in colorful balls of yarn and scribbled-on patterns. The ladies are chattering happily, and drinking tea from mismatched mugs. They've already ordered him a coffee (black, 2 sugars, screw healthy) just the way he likes it, 'cause that's his life now.

He'd found the group while browsing Ravelry. Turns out knitters were as chatty online as they were in person, and they liked to liked to meet up for 'stitch 'n' bitches'. He'd gone for the first time on a rainy day, and hoped very, very hard that these knitters weren't into hockey (unlike some other ravelers. You couldn't blame him for typing him own name in the research bar at least once, could you ?) No one had seemed to recognize him, and he'd soon enough eased him way into the group.

 

“Hello Johnny !” said one of the group leaders, Violet, when she saw him. “Here's your coffee. Don't spill it !”

 

“Don't worry, if I do I'll be sure to spill it on Marie's project !” he said as he took the mug, grinning.

 

“Hey ! That's not nice.” protested Marie.

 

“You've got to admit you spill way more than we do, though.”

 

“Well, that's true.” she recognized. She poked Tazer with her crocheting hook and asked “Johnny, my boy, how's your love life going ?”

 

“As terrible as ever. Yours ?” He pulled his scarf out of his bag and started to knit.

 

“Not bad. Does that mean Patrick's still oblivious to your undying love for him ?”

 

“Yup. As usual.” So what if he decided to share with the other knitters. They GET him, okay. (Well, they mostly coaxed him into talking, but whatever. He's got his honor to uphold.)

 

“Boy meets boy, boys fall in love, other boy doesn't have a clue they've basically been dating forever.” said Marie with a wise expression.

 

“True love !” said another girl dreamily, a dopey smile on her face.

 

“No but seriously, Johnny, you've got to do something !” said Sarah, looking up from the sleeve she was knitting. “Take him out on a date ! Write him a poem ! Make him a candlelight dinner ! Anything !”

 

He groaned. “Did that, did that, never in a million years.”

 

“Wait, what ?” said someone.

 

“You wrote him a _poem_?” crowed Marie. “You MUST share. For science.”

 

“Nice try, but no way.” he sighed. “I'm open to suggestions, though.”

 

“Well … Why don't you try knitting him something ?” suggested Violet. “There's no gift more personal than a handmade one. You could give it to him on his birthday or something.”

 

“Ooh … That's a good idea … But, but then he'd _know_ I'm a knitter !”

 

“Are you a closet knitter ?” asked the dreamy girl sympathetically. “That's tough. Everyone starts wanting stuff when they know though, especially coworkers.”

 

“Nah, most of my coworkers know already.” grumbled Tazer. “They take advantage of it, the fuckers.”

 

Violet thwacked him on the head with her needle case. “Language !”

 

After that, the conversation derived to what kind of colourwork technique is easier to learn and frankly, Tazer is grateful for the change.

 

“If you do decide to knit your boy something, Tazer, whatever you do, don't knit him a sweater.” said Violet after some time.

 

“What ? Why the hell not ?”

 

The ladies exchanges horrified looks around the table.

 

“Because of the boyfriend sweater curse, of course.” said Sarah. “If you start a sweater for Patrick, your relationship is _doomed._ Finito. Game over. Everyone knows that.”

 

“You can't be serious ! A curse ?”

 

“I know how that sounds. I didn't believe it either, but, well, it struck me too.” said the dreamy girl with reverence. “No one is safe from the boyfriend sweater curse.”

 

“No one !” nodded the other ladies along. “A scarf is good, though. Make sure the yarn matches his eyes. I bet he has pretty eyes.”

 

“Screw his eyes, I bet he's hot !” laughed someone.

 

Tazer blushed and started to gather his things. It was late anyway. 

As he left, Marie waved at him and yelled “ I nvite us to the wedding !”, laughing loudly.

Ugh.

 

*

 

“Dude, are those Blackhawks themed socks ?” asked Kaner with suspicion. 

 

“Uuuh … Yes ?” trailed Duncs as he finished getting changed for morning practice. “Yes they are.”

 

“God, you're such a bunch of wussies. All wrapped in thick scarves and socks and hats and shit. It only December, for god's sake !”

 

“But that's 'cause” started a rookie before Sharpie pushed his face away.

 

“Because it's really, _really_ cold, man ! You're going to catch something if you don't start wearing winter gear.”

 

“You're not my mom !” snickered Kaner. “It's not my fault you're all grandmas.”

 

“I bet the grandmas can still kick your ass at hockey, you loser.” said Tazer, scowling as he was putting on his gear. 

 

Gee, what was UP with him. Maybe he'd never fully recovered from the concussion. Maybe the idiot was walking around with brain damage and nobody had noticed him being weird (even weirder than usual, that is.)

 

*

 

By the beginning of February, ice had covered the city and snowstorms kept coming. Kaner had made it a habit to come over after morning practice. He pretended that Tazer's apartment had a better resistance to the cold or something, but really he wanted to have someone to bitch about it.

 

“Ugh, just shut up about the cold.”

 

“Not everyone was raised in the Great White North, you Canadian jerk. We actually have nerve endings here. I'm _freezing._ ”

 

“Fine !” Tazer stomped to his knitting cupboard and took the scarf he'd been knitting for Kaner out of the basket it'd been sitting in, neatly folded. “Put this on, you loser.” He gave it to him and sat back down on the couch.

 

Kaner examined the scarf. It was light blue, almost a little bit green if you held it in the light. “Is that woven ?”

 

“No, it's linen stitch. It's supposed to look like ...” Tazer's voice died mid-sentence.

 

“Dude. Have you … knitted this ? And all the other's stuff ?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Oh, this is too good to be true !” grinned Kaner. “Captain Serious, knitting addict.”

 

“Shut up shut up shut up.”

 

“I can't believe no one told me. So who's this for ?” asked Kaner, holding up the scarf.

 

“Um … It's for you, actually.” said Tazer, definitely not blushing.

 

“For me ?” said Kaner, his face lighting up like an excited 5 year old's on Christmas morning. “Really ?”

 

“Yeah.” Tazer grabbed one end of the scarf, wrapped it around his neck twice and tied a knot. “Maybe you'll stop whining about the cold now.”

 

“Deal. What's the occasion ?”

 

“Uh ?”

 

“I mean, why do I get something after everyone else ?” asked Kaner, raising his eyebrows at him.

 

“I, uh … Valentine's Day ?”

 

“What ?” said Kaner, laughing. “You do know that's not until next week, right ?”

 

Tazer blushed. “Oh, shut up. That was the occasion.”

 

“I … really ?”

 

“Yeah.” Tazer shrugged. “I, uh ...”

 

Kaner groaned. “Oh, shut up and kiss me already.”

 

“What ?” shrieked Tazer, but before he could continue, Kaner pulled him into his arms and pressed a kiss to his lips.

 

Whatever. They didn't need to talk until the end of the snowstorm, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this ! Yes, the boyfriend sweater curse is totally a thing. Ask any knitter. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated <3


End file.
